Pass the Jackhammer

Remember the border I was working on? Usually, I use glue stick and lightly dab it on. I still use pins, just not so many. This time, I followed the directions from a video tutorial and see how beautifully it turned out? The difference was that I used regular Elmer's washable school glue and used a lot of it, as suggested in the tutorial. That border is not going anywhere and I don't have to worry about getting stuck by the pins. I hate getting stuck by pins. When considering a hobby whose enthusiasts frequently discuss good methods for removing blood, it should give you pause.

Ahem. A problem. Shoving a needle through the dried glue is like trying to tear down the Berlin Wall in 1965. I spent an hour on it a couple of nights ago and managed to stitch about 2.5 feet. Because of the glue, I can't pull the stitches tight. I am dreading doing the rest of it. I will probably still use washable glue method on future quilts but not so much and not so close to the edge. This is what I get for enjoying the hiss of the hot iron hitting the glue. Yeah, tell me I'm an idiot.


Jezebel is looking and feeling great. More muzzle pictures.



I think I miscalculated a few days ago when I said we were at the peak on leaves. This is today:


Another quilt picture. I wish that binding was done.


Pretty little Evelyn:


I took the day off for a doctor's appointment. I got some questionable test results back on Tuesday at my annual exam and my GP, who is a bit excitable, sent me to a specialist. No one really thinks it will amount to anything but I have to get all kinds of tests and crap that will make me nervous until I get the news that I am A-OKAY. I have X-rays on my kidneys and stuff on Monday (yes, they have to check for tumors but that is just standard for this) and then we'll see what happens next.

I was the only female patient at the office and was surrounded by men who, if the pamphlets are any indication, suffer from prostate problems, erectile dysfunction and loss of bladder control. There were three men there and I entertained myself by wondering who had what malady. One guy had a cast on his foot but he said got that from falling off a ladder. Unless he landed funny, I doubt that was connected to his reason for seeing a urologist.

The doctor came out and called my name, "Mr. Penny?" He looked a bit startled or embarrassed when I announced, "That would be me." I sort of felt out of place, frankly. He had several models of prostates and male genitalia in the examining room but nothing for the ladies unless they are kind of freaky. Made me wonder if he saw many women patients and whether I was in the right place. I hope he knows what he is doing.

The doctor seemed nice. He had a picture that his child drew when she was a tot. It was posted on his wall directly beneath a scale model of male genitalia that was apparently provided by the makers of Viagra. At least that is what was written on the side. I remarked that it was a bit startling to see a baby's drawing right beneath that particular model and he looked somewhat alarmed and said that it had been there so long that he didn't even "see" it anymore - perhaps he should move it. I suppose most of his men patients wouldn't say anything because it wouldn't strike them as wierd. The one or two women patients that he has likely treated (not counting me) wouldn't say anything for fear he would put something in their file suggesting they are a little creepy. The tot's pictures appeared to be drawn by a first grader who, I am sad to say, displayed little innate talent. The drawing tablet had two trees on it. It was quite precious. The artist is now in college, which tells you a bit about how long it has been hanging there. So to speak.

I seriously considered entitling this post, "How's it Hanging?" but decided that would be too crude. Chalk up the thought to my being a bit unsettled over my medical situation. I hope I don't end up with an enlarged prostate because I have absolutely no use for one.